


A Plain Morning

by alessandralee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dogs, M/M, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz gets woken up early by Buddy the dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Plain Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of my 100 Ways to Say I Love You challenge, although this turned out longer than the others. The prompts was "Go back to sleep."

He’d been working late at the lab all week, so he was exhausted enough that the sudden extra weight on the bed didn’t wake him. The dog breath he was currently inhaling, and the insistent thump of a tail against the covers, though, that was enough to rouse him.

Buddy.

Technically, the chocolate lab belongs to his boyfriend, Grant. Fitz’s animal ownership dreams were a lot more exotic and a lot less attainable. Still, when Fitz moved in, they’d agreed that Buddy would remain Grant’s responsibility.

But Grant works odd hours, and he was still out when Fitz crawled under the covers around 1AM. It’s not quite 5AM now, and while the heavy breathing next to him means that Grant it definitely home, it also means he’s gotten even less sleep than Fitz.

With no regard for Fitz’s body, Buddy steps across the bed to wedge himself between the two men. His tail beats against Fitz’s leg, and Fitz sighs.

Early morning wakeup calls are not his favorite, even when they come from the relatively well-behaved Buddy. But they’re unavoidable.

Grant wakes up enough to notice Buddy, but Fitz tells him, “I’ve got it. Go back to sleep.”

“Fitz, we agreed—“ Grant protests, but Fitz is already sliding out of bed.

“Too late; I’m already up,” Fitz cuts him off.

Grant must have had an exhausting day at work, because he doesn’t argue any further. He just falls forward against his pillow and conks out.

Buddy, recognizing that someone is now awake to take care of him, leaps off the bed and pads down the hall towards the back door. Fitz grabs the first warm item of clothing he sees and follows after.

It’s Grant’s sweatshirt, and he’s practically drowning it, looking even smaller than he actually is. But as he opens the door for Buddy, the blast of crisp autumn air makes him glad for the extra material. The fabric of his pajama bottoms is thin, and he didn’t bother with shoes, but he’d been even colder in one of his usual cardigans.

Buddy tears across the lawn to take care of business as Fitz waits on the deck.

He’d been a bit apprehensive about moving in with Grant, more because he lived in a house in the suburbs than because of any relationship doubts. Fitz liked cities. He liked apartment buildings with friends down the hall. He liked public transportation (or at least he liked it more than he liked driving). But Jemma had suggested he might actually like having the space, and Skye had made him promise to squeeze in at least one barbeque before it got too cold, and suddenly he was packing up all his belongs and moving across town.

That had been two months ago. So far, so good.

Buddy is blessedly quick at doing his business. By the time Fitz decides that he really should catch up on sleep instead of going into the lab on a Saturday, the dog is bounding up the stairs towards him.

Fitz opens the back door and follows Buddy back into the warm house. A quick refill of the food and water bowls means that Buddy will probably be all set until someone wakes up.

Leaving Buddy in the mudroom, Fitz yawns and heads back through the house.

The curtains are partially drawn in the bedroom, rendering it darker than the rest of the house. Fitz doesn’t notice where the sweatshirt lands after he pulls it off his body, but he really doesn’t care. Grant’s the neat freak, all hospital corners and everything in its place. Fitz has always thrived in organized chaos, although he doesn’t get much of that at home any more.

It’s not the hardest compromise he’s ever made, though. He even has a spare bedroom turned office that Grant swears looks like a tornado rolled through it. Last month he spent a good hours challenging Fitz to find various odds and ends buried throughout the room, swearing no one could keep track of anything in that space.

Fitz proved him wrong.

It’s warm back under the overs, but Fitz’s feet are still freezing. He should have stolen the slippers Grant keeps tucked under his side of the bed for exactly this kind of occasion, or at least pulled on a pair of the wool socks his mother sends him whenever the weather starts to turn cold.

Fitz shimmies across the bed towards Grant and rolls onto his side. On the list of suburban house perks, warm boyfriends on cold autumn mornings should be towards the top. Pressing his freezing feet against the back of Grant’s legs warms them up a bit, and it also amuses Fitz to feel him flinch at the sudden cold.

“Don’t you have those wool socks your mom keeps sending?” Grant asks sleepily, not rolling over to look at Fitz, or even bothering to open his eyes.

Fitz glares at the back of Grant’s head, not that he can see it.

“That dog is a menace,” Fitz jokes quietly. “No time.”

“Hey,” Grant lifts an arm to swat behind him at Fitz. “Buddy is an angel. He passed all his doggie obedience classes with flying colors.”

Fitz chuckles. Of course Grant sent Buddy to obedience school. Of course.

“He’s very well behaved,” Fitz agrees.

He considers setting an alarm, so he doesn’t waste the entire day just sleeping, but he’s sure Grant will wake him up long before that. He probably has a list of activities planned, something Fitz has grown to actually like (as long as it doesn’t involve hiking). That means Fitz should really get back to sleep. He can be grumpy when he’s not rested.

“He likes you,” Grant whispers back.

Fitz is tempted to remind Grant that Buddy likes everyone, even the mailman. If someone showed up to rob the house, Buddy would probably just try to play fetch with him.

Still, Grant thinks Buddy is an excellent judge of character, so it can only be a good thing that the dog likes him.

Halfway between consciousness and sleep, Fitz decides he likes Buddy, too. And not just because of his cute owner.


End file.
